Drag me Back
by TheTimeWeaver
Summary: The war inside Dean's mind never rests, and it is destroying him.
1. Chapter 1

All he can think about is the pain.

It was excruciating. Over and over, they would slowly peel at his skin, smiling as he winced at the twinges of pain, knowing that this was nothing in comparison for what was to come. As they gathered their scalpels and blades, he just closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable pain to present itself. First, they slowly sliced him into bits and pieces, but as they continued, they went from precise cuts and stabs, to ripping and tearing at his flesh, their hands inside of him like a knife, twisting around in his organs. They stuck hooks and razors, along with anything they could get their hands on, into his flesh and muscle. Ripping through tendons and often hitting bones with incredible force and shattering them.

All whilst he was hanging there, chained and bound up for ease of access to the sons of bitches. He was awake for all of it, every single ounce of pain, until finally he was nothing but a screaming pile of flesh and bone spread around over the floor. Then, after laying there for hours, he was made whole once again, simple to start the process over. It was never ending, the pain tore him apart every single day for thirty years while he was stuck in the pit, suffocating in all of the pain. He tried so incredibly hard not to give in, but it became too much to bear, and he got off the rack.

He became the torturer, and he despised himself for it. He can remember the faces of the people, as he tore into them with the hooks and knives, like the monsters did to him. He lashed out, with all of his pent up anger and pain, destroying and torturing other souls that were damned to the pit as well. He could feel the hatred welling up in his chest, pulling his lungs tight, and felt as though he was choking on his own emotions. Sometimes he swears he hears their cries of agony, and their begging. So much begging. They cried out, pleading for mercy, over and over. All of which he was trained to ignore. However, what most didn't notice, was that the tears and cries of agony weren't only coming from the souls, but from Dean himself.

Now, not only does Dean Winchester have constant reminders of the physical pain he endured, but also the sagging weight of the torture he dished out. He can't shake the guilt that he trails behind him, and every single day, he tells himself that he is just as bad of a monster as the demons that ripped him to shreds down in the pit. He truly hated every inch of his being. Some days, the emotional pain hurt worse than any of the physical.

Sam can hear Dean screaming in his sleep, and he rushes over to the side of the cheap motel room bed, and shook his screaming brother, jolting him awake and out of his nightmare. Dean's eyes open with a start, and he fumbles to the other side of the bed, shrugging Sam's hand off of his shoulder.

"I'm fine." He mumbles, completely ignoring the fact that his night terrors have been escalating, and stumbles out of bed and into the bathroom. Dean stares at himself in the mirror, his own image greeting him with bags under his bloodshot eyes. He thinks back, and can't even remember the last time that he got real, honest to god, sleep. The memories and flashbacks constantly come back to him, dragging him mentally right back down into the pit. Every single day, he has to deal with his own version of hell that he creates for himself.

He runs the water and splashes some into his face, and sheds his clothes, his shirt last of all, as the handprint of Castiel meets his eyes in the mirror, singed into the flesh on his arm. More images of hell flash through his mind, and he roughly grabs the sink with both hands to keep from collapsing.

_'Why did Cas even save me in the first place'_ Dean thinks to himself, as he looks back into the mirror, a tear falling from his eye. He throws off his shirt angrily, and then proceeds to run the water in the shitty ass motel shower until the mirror is clouded with steam. Dean takes a breath and climbs under the scalding spray, trying to feeling as far from hell as possible. The intense heat and the scalding water rippling over his skin comforts him. Heat in general relaxes him a bit. Because he knows all too well, that contrary to popular belief, hell burns cold.

A half an hour passes, and Sam becomes concerned about Dean being in the bathroom for longer than usual. He hesitantly knocks on the door, and in return, Dean throws open the door, fully naked, while brushing his teeth.

"What." Dean says sarcastically, mouth full of toothpaste.

"Um, never mind, nothing." Sam says, averting his eyes from Dean.

"That's what I thought." Dean smiles and winks, and then closes the door. A small smirk creeps onto his face, as he quickly gets dressed to set out with Sam on their next hunt. "So, where to?" Dean says; trying to avoid the conversation he knew was inevitable.

"Dean, you've hardly slept in weeks."

"So?" He chuckles, trying to put on a tough act. "I'm a man; I can fight my own battles Sammy."

"I just want to make sure you're going to be o-" Dean cuts him off.

"Enough, Sam. I said I'm fine. Let's go." Deans face turns cold, as he grabs his duffel bag and heads to the car, slamming the motel room door on his way out.


	2. Chapter 2

"So where did you say we were going again?" Dean says, as he speeds down the highway, Metallica humming through the speakers, the rhythm pounding through the Impala.

"Lone Rock, Wisconsin. Seven suicides in the past month, all reportedly seen last at the town's Community Library." Sam mutters; head buried in a book. "Well, I wouldn't even call it a town. They have less than a thousand people living there. It's miniscule."

"So I'm guessing that we'll be sleeping in the car then, I doubt there are any motels nearby." Dean sighs, muttering to himself. "What do you think it could be this time?"

"Maybe it's a wraith? Like the one we ran into in the nut house?"

"Maybe, so we'll have to check to see if their brains have been sucked dry." Dean said, glancing at Sam.

"Yeah. I don't know, it's weird. They don't even have their own police force, or for that matter, hospital. It is a tiny speck in the Richland County area. It seems weird, a monster targeting such a small town. I mean, in a town with about 600 people in it, 7 suicides is definitely going to raise suspicions." Sam says, a puzzled tone to his voice.

"Eh, well, we'll check it out. Might just be nothing." Dean mumbled, and he turned his music up, and continued down the highway towards Wisconsin.

Five more hours pass by, until finally, Dean decides to pull into an all-night diner for some food and coffee. He turns to wake up Sam, but decides against it to avoid any more little "talks" coming back up. The last thing Dean wants to discuss is his feelings. He takes the keys out after cracking open a back window, and locks the doors behind him, Sammy snoring from inside. He made sure that he parked right next to a window, so he can keep an eye on his little brother.

Dean trudges in, and looks up at the clock, squinting because the bright florescent lights in the diner are a big difference from the light, or lack thereof, he sees when driving down back roads alone in the middle of the night. The clock reads 3:24. Dean's exhaustion hits him hard the second he sits at a table, as he leans his head back in the booth and groans.

"What can I get fo' ya?" An older woman with a thick accent holding the order sheet stands impatiently before him, seeming almost as exhausted as the rest of the world. "Sir, I needs ya order." She says, pulling the pen from behind her ear.

"I'll have the cheeseburger, and a coffee. Black." He says gruffly, resting his head in his hands as she and her heels click away. Dean's mind keeps racing, and he can't slow it down. The longer he sits, the heavier his eyelids feel. Before he realizes it, he's drifted off. But the moment he sinks into sleep, imagery of the souls he tortured come screaming into his mind. He jolts awake after the image passes, and groans.

"Dean."

He jumps at the familiar voice, looks up, and meets the intense blue eyes of Castiel.

"Cas, oh my god, where have you been?" He says excitedly, torn between happiness that his best friend is back, and anger because he left in the first place.

"I got called back to Heaven, and they wouldn't let me leave for weeks." Cas says, looking up at the waitress as she brought over Dean's food.

"Why didn't you just ignore their call? I mean, honestly, couldn't the dicks wait? We really needed you on that case last month, and then one morning you were just… gone." He says, taking a swig of the coffee.

"It wasn't a call, Dean," he says, and the low tone of Cas' voice takes Dean's attention immediately. "They pulled me there. I didn't choose to go; they all too literally ripped me away." He says with frustration in his voice.

"What the hell Cas, why did they?"

"I. Don't. Know." Cas growls. "They simply kept me locked away. I don't understand why." Dean looks up, and opens his mouth to respond, when Cas cuts him off. "But, that isn't the reason I came here." He says, looking up at Dean. "You need to turn away from this case right now."

"What are you on about?" says Dean sarcastically.

"I'm talking about the fact that it is not safe for you two to go to Lone Rock. You must not go."

"Okay, no, Cas. I'm not just going along with all this mysterious 'stay away' shit." Dean says angrily in-between bites.

"I'm not joking. This is serious. You need to leave." He says, suddenly taking on a darker tone of voice.

"Why, then?" Dean says, rolling his eyes as he finishes his food.

"Because it is not safe."

"Okay, no, Cas that's bull shit. Either you tell me what the hell is going on in freaking no-man's land Wisconsin, or we keep going. End of discussion."

"I can't tell you." Says Cas, gritting his teeth, now standing, looming over Dean. Dean simply takes ten dollars out of his wallet, gets up, and hands it to the woman at the counter.

"Keep the change" He mutters, and then goes outside to get on his way. About five feet from the Impala, Cas pops up behind him, and firmly grabs Dean's shoulder, quickly turning him around.

"Dean, I am warning you. Don't." The angel's voice is commanding and angry, but his eyes are soft, pleading with Dean, as he loosens the grip on his shoulder, simply resting his hand on it now. In response, Dean just rips his shoulder away from Cas, turns and gets into the car, and pulls out of the lot.

"Fucking angels." He mutters, as he continues down the highway to Wisconsin, fixing his jacket where the angel grabbed him.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time the sun starts to peek through the clouds, Sam and Dean are driving on US 14 in Richland County, along the Wisconsin river. They're almost to Lone Rock, and Dean remembers Cas' warnings, feeling a bit uneasy. The gentleness and care in his eyes and desperate grasp on Dean's shoulder come to mind, and he can't help but think that maybe he should listen to the angel. But he shakes the thought from his mind, and keeps driving.

_What, he thinks we can't handle a stupid little hunt on our own because it's "dangerous"? Screw that, he underestimates us. We've handled way worse before._ Dean thinks to himself, as he blows past a stop sign. He elbows Sam in the arm to wake him up, and when that doesn't work, he reaches down to the tape and pushes it into the stereo, blaring Hot Blooded by the Foreigners through the Impala's speakers. Sam jumps, hitting his head on the roof of the car.

"Fuck." Sam mutters, as he rubs his eyes, and blindly reaches for the volume until he succeeds in turning it down to a bearable level.

"Time to wake up, sunshine." Dean states obnoxiously, while beating his hands on the steering wheel of the car along to the song. "We're almost to Lone Rock."

"Ugh, Dean, did you drive all night?" Sam mumbles, still half asleep.

"You know it Sammy. But I'm right and ready to gank whatever this son of a bitch turns out to be."

"Dean, maybe we should stop before we get there, so you can sleep." Sam starts

"No, Sam, I'm great. Honestly." Dean glances over to him, still nodding his head to the beat of the song, still picking up speed.

"You don't seem fine, D-" Suddenly Sam moves backward in his seat, and yells to Dean. "HOLY SHIT, LOOK OUT DAMNIT!" As he sees an empty car in the middle of the road.

"FUCK!" Dean yells, as he twists the wheel to the left, swerving off the road to avoid the car. He manages to drive into the grass of a field on the side of the road, and stop the car.

"What the hell Dean, how fast were you going?" Sam snaps at him, clutching the bottom of his seat.

"I don't know, what the hell was that car doing in the middle of the road!" Dean yelled back, climbing out of the Impala and heading over to the car in the street. "It's in perfect condition, not a scratch on it." He mumbled, rummaging through the car, looking for means of identifying whose it was. "And, no papers, it looks like." He says in frustration, turning back to Sam.

"That's weird. Like, the people just, left." He mumbles, looking around, realizing they were about 10 miles into Lone Rock already. "Well, looks like we're here."

"Damn." Dean said, looking around. There were a couple signs telling you where you were, but other than that, just forest so far. They climbed back into the car and drove into the actual town itself, which was just as desolate as the roads.

"You sure people actually LIVE here?" Dean says as he scopes the place out. There are a couple of churches, a dinky community building, and a small library. "Honestly, Sam, it looks like nobody's home. Maybe you got the wrong town?" He says, motioning to the empty cars just abandoned in the roads, and the traffic lights blinking red."

"No, I don't think so, Dean, look." On every street lamp, window, and sign, missing person's reports were hung. But still, not a breath of life wafted into the town. Sam rolled down his window and grabbed one of the reports to look closer. "These aren't even the people who killed themselves; these are just the regular people who live here."

"Is everyone missing?" Dean says slowly, looking around, a sinking feeling settling in.

"I think so…" Sam mumbles, not really knowing what to think of this.

"It looks like a ghost town." Dean drives down the street a bit further, and then pulls up next to the dinky building that is set as the library. "Let's go check it out." Dean parks, and they head to the trunk and grab their weapons.

"Man this place gives me the creeps…" Mutters Dean as he opens the door to the library. The lights inside are dim and flickering, and the whole place smelled like sulfur. The room was narrow, with one lonely desk up by the front with an ancient computer sitting there, unplugged. The phone was smashed against the wall.

"Yeah, you've got that right." Sam said warily, turning the corner into the main part of the library. They continued through the paths between bookshelves, and had yet to find anything. They turned over tables and chairs, moved shelves, checked the shelves for any kind of hint as to what might be going on, but they still find nothing.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Dean hears a scream coming from the door across the room, and runs to it, throwing it open.

"Sam, over here!"

Sam runs over to the door, where Dean is looking down an empty hallway.

"Okay, that looks suspicious." Sam says, motioning for Dean to come back into the library area.

"No, did you hear the screams? It sounds like someone's back here, Sammy." Dean moves further down the hallway.

"Dean, stop, stay over here, we need to figure out what's going on. This doesn't make any sense, it isn't right." Sam says, while Dean reaches the end of the hallway and looks to his right.

"It keeps going, I want to go find whoever that was." Dean says, and then turns back around and freezes, terror striking his face. There, standing in front of him, is the one person he never wanted to see again.

Alistair's lips curl up into a sinister smile. "Hello again, Dean."


	4. Chapter 4

"I am so, very, very glad to see you again." Alistair said, chuckling as, with a flick of his wrist, he slammed the door on Sam, who was running towards them.

"You're supposed to be dead." Dean said, backing away from the demon slowly, backing himself into a corner.

"Obviously not."

"No, this isn't possible. Sam KILLED you, he didn't just send you back to the pit, he destroyed you… how the hell are you here." he said, calculating in his head some way to get out of this mess. _Dammit, why didn't I just fucking listen to Cas._

"Tut tut, I thought you'd learned by now. There are always exceptions," Alistair pauses, and winks at Dean. "You, of all people, should know that, Winchester." And with that, he grabbed Dean's collar and threw him against the wall.

"What do you want with me?" Dean breathes, trying to regain his breath.

"What do I want? Ha, the only thing I want, is for you to get another of your daily doses of hell." He snarled, and snapped his fingers, followed by growls that Dean knew too well. Fear ran through Dean, and he turned to go back towards the door, but realized that it had disappeared.

"Oops, sorry." Alistair chuckled.

"Where. is. Sam." Dean muttered, anger flaring in his eyes.

"Back at the library, frantically trying to figure out what happened to you." The growls continue from behind Alistair, and Dean bangs against the walls, knowing there was no use. He saw the look of terror in Dean's eyes, and as much as he tried to cover it up and act tough, he could see right through it, and he was just eating it up. "Look at little Dean, too afraid to move. You're pretty pathetic, boy, you know that?" Alistair spits out, flicking his fingers, throwing Dean across the room once again, like a ragdoll.

"Go to hell." He chokes out, spitting his blood on the floor.

"Oh, no thank you. But I have a one-way ticket for you." Alistair grins and looks down at Dean lying in a heap on the floor. "Here, let me help you with that" He says, kicking Dean in the side with the force of two men. He watches in amusement as Dean struggles to stand up, and face the Demon. "What's the matter, no good without your scary little angel on your shoulder?" He heckles, spitting at Dean.

"Shut up." Dean mumbles, his glare shooting at Alistair.

"Oh, I don't think so. But we can make all of this so much easier if you just stop lying to yourself. You will always go to hell when you die, a torturer can never, never be saved. No matter how many angels you have in your little posse. Your soul is damned, Dean, and there is nothing you can do about it. Fighting me now? It won't do you any good. Simply make it more, difficult." He smirks, throwing Dean back onto the ground.

Dean struggles against the pain, and stand right back up, blood dripping down his face, hand clasping his side.

"What, you want me to be your bitch and willingly frolic down to hell with you? No thanks." Dean states, holding his ground.

"Now now Dean, we wouldn't want to bring little Sammy into this now, would we?" Alistair knows he's hit a nerve, as the fire in Dean's eyes turns cold.

"You don't lay a finger on him." He says loudly, standing up straighter, wiping some of the blood from his face.

"Oh, I don't intend to. Just stop being a pain in the ass."

"Fine." Dean says, shooting daggers at the Demon through his eyes, trying to ignore the sounds coming from the hellhounds. "Go ahead, take your best fucking shot." He straightens himself, and puts his hands out to his sides to expose himself.

"Well well… that was easy." Alistair chuckled, and motioned his hand forward, and Dean heard the nails of the hounds scratch against the wood floor. He squeezed his eyes shut, and he braced for the inevitable impact which was to come.

"Not today." Said the deep, gravelly voice that Dean has memorized. The noises of the hounds dissipate almost immediately, and as he opens his eyes, he sees Cas standing in front of him, shielding him from Alistair.

"Oh really?" Alistair replies cockily.

"Not. Ever." Cas says, his voice rough.

"We'll see about that." He chuckled, and then leaped forward, attacking Castiel. He immediately went for his neck, and shoved him to the floor, a death grip on his neck. Cas knew from past experience with Alistair, he couldn't just remove the demon. It didn't come that easy with the extremely powerful ones. Especially, one who had literally been raised from the dead. Not just hell, but from being dead, wherever demons go when they are killed in a literal sense. Cas flips over, and his fist makes contact with Alistair's face, holding him down and continually beating him.

Dean sees Cas, and hardly recognizes him. The anger in his eyes, it isn't like him. Suddenly, Alistair starts laughing maniacally, and then traps Castiel against the wall.

"You actually think you can beat me?" He said with a smile, wiping his face. "I thought it'd be a bit of a show, to let you think you could overpower me, but sadly little angel, that's not the case."

"You son of a bi-" Cas' words are cut off as Alistair squeezes his hand into a fist.

"Shut up." He said, and turned back to Dean, pinning him against the wall as well. "I hope you realize, that this was a trap, Dean."

"Yeah, I kind of get the picture." Dean spits out at him in anger.

"Even that handsome devil over there, oops, my mistake, _angel_," He says, stretching out the word in his mouth, "well, even he can't help you. See, whoever it was that brought me back, I'm more powerful than ever." He lets go of his grip on Cas, and as he slides to the floor gasping for breath, he manages to finish his sentence from earlier.

"You son of a bitch. You get away from Dean Winchester." He stands, regaining his strength, and starts towards the demon.

"Oops, sorry, came prepared." Alistair said quickly, and as he snapped his fingers, a ring of fire formed around Castiel. He looked down at the ring around him, and then stared at the demon with more hatred than he ever had inside him before.

"Don't you dare touch him." He said, his voice lower than usual, with more force and order in it than Dean had ever heard from him.

"Oh, and what'll you do to me?" Alistair chuckled, "You going to walk over the deadly fire and stop me?" Cas stood in the middle of the circle, angry, but also scared. Dean saw it in his eyes when Cas looked up at him, pinned on the wall. His eyes weren't angry, they were terrified. Castiel was truly scared. His blue eyes pierced through Deans, giving him a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realized what was going on. Either way, they are both going to die.

"Now Dean, why don't we just move you to the floor and we'll get started." Alistair said cheerfully, pulling out the extremely recognizable box for Dean.

"No, no Alistair.. god, don't." Dean pleaded, his eyes focused on Alistair's hand now grasping one of the blades from his box of torturing tools. Dean tried to move, to get away, but the demon had him pinned down.

"You know the drill Dean, just hold still.." He said menacingly, as he trailed the blade down his cheek lightly, not causing any damage to his already bloodied face.

"Get off of me you bastard." Dean said, trying to remain calm, but internally he was screaming for help.

"Oh, well look who's _cocky_." Alistair hissed, as he responded by pushing the blade down into the flesh of Dean's upper arm.

Cas' panic grew tenfold as he watched Alistair carve into Dean expertly, ripping the screams from his throat.

"Stop it!" Cas screamed, shaking the entire room with his voice.

Alistair pauses, getting up from his position of hovering over Dean's torn up body.

"What is it now." He says impatiently, as Cas can hear Dean breathing raggedly, wincing and crying out in immense pain.

"Leave him be." Cas said, taking a step closer to the flames. Dean sees Cas out of the corner of his eyes, and tries desperately to move to see more clearly. He once again meets the soft blue eyes, and knows immediately what Cas is doing.

"Cas…." Dean chokes out, blood pooling underneath him, flowing from gashes in his arms and side, and slowly dripping from his swollen lips. "Cas… don't." He says, and cries out again as Alistair turns around and digs his fingers into one of the slices on his arms.

"Shut up." He snarls, and turns back to the trapped angel.

"Dean, I'm…" Cas begins, and his sad eyes look into Deans once more. "I am so sorry.." He finishes, and steps over the circle, screaming as his body is engulfed in the holy fire. Dean quickly shuts his eyes, knowing what is coming, as the white light and high pitched screech fill the room. Suddenly, everything stops.

Dean slowly opens his eyes, and is met by the sight of Castiel's singed body collapsed on the floor, and Alistair's empty shell laying destroyed next to him.


End file.
